Worth the Suffering
by Lomonaaeren
Summary: HPDM slash, one-shot. Draco has just escaped from a Ministry obsessed with Halloween, and what he finds in Harry's flat is the last straw. COMPLETE.


**Title: **Worth the Suffering

**Disclaimer: **J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this for fun and not profit.

**Wordcount: **1500

**Warnings: **None? Other than references to sex, I suppose.

**Rating: **G

**Challenge: **for enchanted_jae

_Keywords: _cape, creeping, jack-o-lantern

_Dialogue: _"If I hear 'trick or treat' one more time…"

**Summary: **Draco has just escaped from a Halloween-obsessed Ministry, and what he finds at Harry's flat is the last straw.

**Author's Notes: **Very fluffy.

**Worth the Suffering**

"If I hear 'trick or treat' one more time…"

Draco shut the door of Harry's flat behind him and leaned against it, closing his eyes. From the sound of it, Harry was moving around in the kitchen, and he lived alone, so there was no chance of anyone else seeing Draco look a bit undignified.

The Ministry had encouraged wizards after the war to have a greater knowledge of the Muggle world, presumably because they assumed that would prevent another war. Draco had thought it was a rubbish idea from the beginning. How would knowing a bit about Muggle history and holidays prevent people from despising them? According to Harry, various Muggle societies had tried the same method of teaching their children about other cultures, and they still had as many wars as ever.

It was one thing to have Halloween decorations at Hogwarts. Draco accepted that it was a holiday for _children_, and there was little mention of Muggle-specific custom there. But when the Ministry insisted on hanging up paper black cats in the Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures office, and having the Minister come to the office in costume, and giving a complimentary pumpkin to every employee to make into a jack-o-lantern…

But the worst, the absolute _worst_, was the new "trick or treat" tradition.

If Draco closed his eyes, he could still see the horror as if it were happening before him.

Children too young to go to Hogwarts running wild through the Ministry corridors, waving their hollow plastic pumpkins that were supposed to be filled with sweets and shrieking with glee. Children armed with pranks from the Weasleys' joke shop to use on people who didn't have sweets ready for them the _instant _they asked. Greedy little bastards circling back for a second trip through some of the offices, confident that there were so many miniature ghosts and pirates and Celestina Warbecks around that they wouldn't be recognized.

Draco hadn't got a lick of work done. He didn't understand his colleagues who giggled and cooed when they saw the monsters coming. Did they think this was _fun_?

They probably did, come to that. Most of the people Draco worked with didn't see the vital importance of their work for the smooth running of the Ministry and the registration of magical creatures in the wider wizarding community. They were using the job to earn a few Galleons and hopefully move on to a higher rung on the ladder soon.

Many of them planned to have children. Draco shuddered and shook his head. Even if he hadn't been bent, he wouldn't have wanted any when they would transform into _that _in a few years.

The terrifying vision of a young witch with her mouth smeared with chocolate, the mask of some Muggle "cartoon" character resting on top of her sugar-sprinkled curls, made his stomach twitch. Draco shoved himself away from the door and walked into the kitchen, hoping that Harry had dinner ready. Something soft and soothing and warm, to get rid of his gastrointestinal distress.

He slammed to a stop in the doorway, and stared in greater horror than he could have imagined.

"No," he whispered.

Harry stood on a chair, tongue projecting between his lips as he carefully fastened a rustling pumpkin made of orange paper to a black streamer that ran around the ceiling. Draco stared on blank, black, triangular eyes and a mindless toothy grin, repeated again and again, and stifled the urge to scream.

A jack-o-lantern in progress, its foul-smelling contents in a cup beside it, sat on the table. A full-size silhouette of a vampire in a cape hung over the stove. Witches with warty green faces and long noses—something Draco knew that very few witches looked like unless they _chose _to, which was a sign of the Ministry playing into Muggle stereotypes about wizards again—swooped cheerfully on a mobile above the kitchen table.

And there was golden and orange tinsel everywhere. Plus the glass vase that Draco had bought Harry for his birthday because it had a stag sporting on it was stuffed full of a plush black cat whose goggle eyes stared into Draco's soul.

Draco had a creeping urge to vomit, but just then Harry turned around and saw him. He beamed.

"Oh! Hullo, Draco! Do you think I've decorated enough for the Halloween party?" He looked proudly around the kitchen as he hopped off the chair.

"I think," Draco said, keeping his voice low because yelling would be counterproductive, "that you should take all the decorations down _immediately_. I had to put up with this nonsense at work. I won't put up with it at home."

Harry's eyes narrowed, and his mouth curved up into what Draco would have called a smile, except that it was too sharp. "Funny," he said. "Since I've never seen you eager to call this place your home before."

Draco scowled and looked at the floor, rubbing the back of his neck. Yes, it was true that he'd refused to move in with Harry so far, because he wanted to keep their little fling secret. Why not? The press would drag up old stories about him if they had the chance, and they would take any opportunity to root around in Harry's life. It was the sensible thing to do.

Harry had agreed to the decision, because Draco wouldn't have dated him without it. But he'd never liked it or shied away from making his dislike known.

"Besides," Harry went on, his voice inexorable, "last year the Weasleys held our Halloween party at the Burrow. I said I would hold it here this year. I can't just cancel it with no warning or explanation, but I can't give them the warning or the explanation because you won't let me. So." He raised his eyebrows and turned away to fetch another pumpkin from the pile of them.

Draco shuddered and stole a glance at the decorations again. The witches leered at him. The black cat in the vase looked as if it was ready to commence the soul-eating. Draco was sure that whoever made that thing must have studied a Dementor to get the exact expression in its eyes.

It was a sacrifice, but at the moment, possible interest from reporters was nothing compared to present pain from bright colors and blank eyes.

"Tell them," Draco said.

Harry paused and glanced back at him, another pumpkin swinging from his fingers. "What?"

"Tell them," Draco repeated, swallowing uncomfortably. He wondered how the Weasels would react. Probably badly, since they were still trying to snare Harry for their ginger-haired bint the last Draco heard. But he would put up with it. He'd put up with a lot worse since he started dating the Chosen One. Harry's snoring, for example. "Tell them that you're spending the holiday with me and that I made plans without telling you because I didn't know about the party. Expensive plans that I can't change." He put up his chin and tried to look confident and hardened.

Harry's face changed slowly, to such a radiant expression that Draco began to smile back. Harry laughed and stepped towards him, clasping his arms around Draco's neck and kissing him softly on the cheek.

"Thank you," he whispered. "I didn't really want these decorations anyway, but I didn't have a good excuse. _Thank _you."

Draco nodded, thankful that Harry was keeping up the pretense that his decision only mattered as far as avoiding the Halloween party went. He trailed his fingers through Harry's hair. "And you'll really get rid of them?"

Harry turned to the stuffed black cat and held out his wand. "_Incendio!_" he proclaimed.

It did Draco's soul good to watch the wretched thing burst into flames. He kissed Harry back and went down the corridor to the bedroom, confident that Harry would join him there as soon as he finished controlling the fires.

Excitement and nervousness mixed together into a heavy sea in the back of his mind. He didn't know how this would change things, exactly, only that it would.

_But it's worth the suffering. _

_Especially since we'll be making love in a room with plain walls._

*

Harry caught a glimpse of his reflection in the side of the glass vase as he turned in a circle, merrily incinerating the pumpkins on the walls. He had a wide, evil grin, of the kind that he never showed when Draco was around.

He didn't care, because he'd got what he wanted.

_I knew listening to Draco complain about Halloween at the Ministry and how much he hated the decorations would pay off._

**End.**


End file.
